by Vicki Hinze
Whatever it was, Amanda had seen and felt it a million times.
The guard on the far right peeled off. “Heads up,” Amanda warned Kate. “They’ve made us.”
Simultaneously, she and Kate rose to a crouch and watched the remaining two men continue to move in. “Steady.” She signaled Kate. “Steady.”
When they were within striking distance, Amanda issued the kill order. “Move on three.”
The pair moved closer. The third made a wide swing to Amanda’s right, away from Kate. Amanda would have to take him simultaneously, and hoped she had the strength to do it. Normally, she’d feel pretty confident about her odds—the men were loud and lumbered; not slackers by any stretch of the imagination, yet definitely not Delta-trained—but she was running on sheer adrenaline, and they appeared well rested. That gave them a dangerous edge.
“One.” She began the count. The tension of mentally preparing for battle set into the men’s shoulders, into their steps. “Two.” They were creeping now, moving with stealth and unfortunately, skill. Widening the gap between them, the women turned back to back. “Three.”
Seconds later, Amanda engaged the enemy. He, too, had a knife and his reach was longer. She assessed him in the first ten seconds of combat. No slouch. Stronger. Six-inch and fifty-pound advantage. Fast. But—she parried and whipped a flurry of snapped thrusts—she was faster.
Cursing, he dropped a sweeping kick and knocked her feet out from under her. She hit the rocky ground with a hard thump, heard her own grunts and groans and Kate’s. From the corner of her eye, she saw him advancing, setting up for the kill. She waited...waited...waited...then surged to her feet and slammed into him, shoulder to gut, with a forward momentum that knocked him on his backside. A swipe with her knife and his throat lay wide open. Blood flowed out, soaking his shirtfront, and he collapsed on the ground.
Breathing hard and heavy, Amanda darted an assessing look at Kate. She was still battling the guy, but she was gaining the upper hand. Where was the third guy? He’d seemingly vanished into thin air.
Amanda spun to look behind her—and took a hard blow to the face. Pain blasted in her jaw and she saw stars. Shaking her head to clear it, she tumbled onto the ground to get out of striking distance then rolled up and onto her feet.
He lost his composure, roared, “I’m going to kill you.”
Overbite. She recognized him from the Texas compound. Luckily, he had a ferocious temper and it controlled him. Determined to use that against him, she smiled, hoping it would throw him off guard long enough for her vision to clear. “Hope you’re better at this than your sidekick, honey, or you’re doing nothing to me.”
Letting out a growl, he dived into her, knocked her sprawling on her back, his knife blade arced above his head, gleaming in the moonlight. She rolled out from under him as he positioned for a powerful down thrust intended for her chest. The knife blade sank into the dirt up to its hilt.
That was the one moment Amanda needed, and she seized it, kicking him in the head. From where she stood, she heard his neck snap. He sank into a heap, dead before he landed facedown in the dirt.
Her chest heaving, her lungs craving more air, she checked on Kate, who delivered an uppercut to the man’s chest that drove the blade through his heart. He fell forward against her. Staggering backward from his dead weight, Kate shoved hard and rolled her shoulder. He fell into a heap on the ground, raising a little cloud of dust.
“You two okay?” Douglas asked.
“Fine.” Gasping for air, Amanda swiped at the sweat burning her eyes, rolling down the sides of her face.
“Yeah, Douglas,” Kate said. “Nicked my thigh, but it’s nothing that can’t be kissed and made better.” She blew out a shuddery breath, retrieved her knife and swiped at the blood dripping from the blade on the man’s jacket. “You married?”
“No.”
“Glad to hear it.”
“Kate...” Amanda put a warning in her tone.
“What?” she objected. “I’m multitask proficient.”
“Fine. Multitask your proficient self on moving.” Amanda retrieved her gear. “Tactical, we’re going in. Radio silence from here on out.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Douglas said, his disappointment obvious.
Kate bit a laugh from her voice. “We’ll play later, Douglas.”
“Looking forward to it, ma’am.”
Amanda gritted her teeth and took the flirting between the two of them in stride. Kate was good enough to get away with it, and apparently Douglas was, too. Not for a second should anyone be fooled into thinking Kate wasn’t keen on every aspect of the mission. That would be a lethal underestimation. She genuinely was proficient at multitasking, and flirting relaxed her, making her more proficient. It wasn’t Amanda’s way, but whatever worked, worked, and she was a smart enough team leader to respect that.
Long before they reached the first of the three buildings, a man intercepted them, whispering loudly enough for anyone within fifty yards to hear him. “Amanda West? Amanda West?”
“Gaston?” Amanda whispered, recognizing his voice and his gait. She picked up her speed, stopped before him. “What are you doing here?”
“Kunz evacuated me with the others.”
“How did you know we were here?”
“He brought Mark here. It didn’t take a genius to figure out as soon as you could, you’d come after him and then settle the score with Reese and Kunz.”
“No,” Amanda said. “I mean, how did you know Kate and I were here now? Are there monitors? Cameras?”
“Don’t need them here. We’re on the top of a mountain. Nothing comes into the compound unseen.” He grabbed a breath, then went on. “I’ve been waiting for you since the recon team first showed up. I knew you wouldn’t be far behind them.” Gaston spared Kate a glance and winced when he saw blood on the knife in her hand. “Don’t worry, Amanda. No one knows they’ve been here. I didn’t report it, and I made sure the other guards stayed outside the perimeter and didn’t see anything.”
“Why?” Kate asked, blunt to a fault.
Gaston glared at her as if she were a bug. A stupid bug. “Because I’d like to get out of here upright and get back to my life.”
His tone didn’t sit any better with Kate than his glare. She put a stiff bite in her voice he’d have to be dead to miss. “Which is—what?”
“Who are you?” He pulled no punches with the verbal smack. “I’m trying to help you. Don’t give me grief over it.”
“Kate, this is Gaston.” Amanda introduced them to give them a minute to let the level of tension between them diffuse. “He saved my backside when I was in the Texas compound.”
“Sorry,” Kate said. “We didn’t expect any friendlies.”
“No problem.” He bristled but gave her the benefit of the doubt and let his hackles lower.
“How many of my guys are being held here?” Amanda asked. “And where are they being held?”
“Seven,” Gaston said. “Below ground. It’s a maze, Amanda. I’ll have to take you there.”
“Whoa, wait,” Kate objected, ignoring the fact that Gaston could overhear every word she said. “This smells like a trap, Amanda.”
“It isn’t.” Gaston glared at Kate.
Amanda looked from Kate to Gaston. He looked sincere. His body language rang true to what he was saying, and she knew he wasn’t with Kunz by choice. At least, that’s what he’d told her repeatedly. Once again, she opened her sensors and relied on her instincts. “Is this a trap, Gaston?”
“No, but there is a condition.”
“Of course.” Kate huffed a sigh.
Amanda sent her a squelching look. “What is it?”
“You have to take me with you. If I stay here, I’m dead.”
“What’s your affiliation?”
“I’m CIA,” Gaston admitted. “That’s all I’m at liberty to tell you.”
It was enough. “How long have you been with GRID?”
“Two years, one month,
twelve days.”
And he’d quite obviously hated every one of them. She nodded. “Okay. I’m going to trust you, Gaston. Don’t make me regret it.”
“Not a problem. I’ve seen what happens to people who cross you. That was a real number you did on Reese’s face, Amanda.”
She didn’t respond. What was there to say? She certainly had no intention of apologizing, and Reese had deserved worse. He was going to get it, too, just as soon as the opportunity presented itself. He’d hit her, trying to incite fear and dominate her. She hadn’t forgotten that.
Her silence spoke volumes to Gaston. He turned and began a stealth ascent toward the second building. “Give me five minutes. I’ll take care of the guard and, if we’re lucky, you can walk right in.”
Amanda nodded, backing against the concrete building. Kate hit the wall beside her. “I don’t like this. We’re totally exposed.”
“If you’ve got a better idea for getting into this fortress, I’m all ears.”
Soon Gaston returned and signaled for them to follow him. Weapons drawn, they entered the building, took the winding corridors through the bowels of the underground system. Kate covertly dropped markers so that if push came to shove, they could follow them out—and, Amanda suspected—so that if Gaston took them in a circle, she could take him down without Amanda opposing.
They paused at a T in the tunnels. “It’s a straight shot from here,” Gaston whispered. “All seven are in a cell midway down. Guard’s drugged at his desk at the other end. I’ll run interference from here.”
Amanda got an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach, but they didn’t have a lot of choices, so she and Kate took the hallway, foot by foot, passing two openings, checking in front, behind, above and below for signs of any trouble. Finally, she saw a door of steel bars and identified the men inside as Americans. None of them was Mark. Disappointment flooded her.
Kate rigged one of her incidentals and blew the door. The men were all capable of traveling, though a few were pretty bruised up. “Where’s Captain Cross?” Amanda asked.
One of the men, sporting two black eyes and a busted nose, answered, “They took him out today in the helicopter.”
“Where?”
“Don’t know. No one knows, ma’am. But they did leave the compound with him. The guards were glad he was gone.”
“Why?”
He looked at her as if she were a brick short. “He was Delta Force. They’re scared to death of Delta Force.”
Mark wasn’t here. Oh, no. He wasn’t here. “Wise of them.” Why hadn’t Gaston told her that? Now where did she look for him?
First priority had to be to get the detainees out. “Stay close between us.” She motioned from herself to Kate. “Everyone can walk, right?”
“Yeah,” the same man said. “We’re all mobile.”
Amanda took the lead and worked them back toward Gaston at the T in the tunnels. But when she got there, an unwelcome surprise awaited her that had her muttering curses under her breath and her finger itching on the trigger of her gun. Paul Reese and not Gaston stood there, waiting for her. “Where’s Gaston?” she said.
“Sorry, who?” Reese smiled. The bandages were gone on his face, and the red scars were prominent. “Captain West, I’m so glad to see you again.”
She just bet he was. “Let’s go, Reese. You’re outmanned and outgunned. Don’t fight me on this. Just turn around and start walking.”
“Of course.” He turned and a metal plate dropped from the ceiling to the floor behind them, forming a wall.
They couldn’t regress. Her instincts shoved her to push hard—hard and fast—and so she did. Drop-kicking Paul Reese in the face, on the same side as the scars she’d given him. He fought back. They were well matched, but she got lucky, landed an uppercut to his jaw and heard the bone crack.
He turned and fled, and suddenly disappeared. One second he was in the hallway; the next, there was no sight of him.
They backtracked out of the maze, following Kate’s trail of markers. About halfway, Gaston lay in the dirt. Amanda paused, dropped down beside him.
“Is he dead?” Kate asked.
“No. Unconscious.” She began lifting him, determined to find out why he hadn’t told her Mark had been moved out. “Somebody help me here.”
“We’ll take him,” one of the men said. A second one stepped forward, grabbed Gaston’s free side. “You’re armed. You lead us out.”
Amanda again took the lead, moved swiftly and sure-footedly toward the entrance. She expected all out war to break loose at the mouth of the building. But it didn’t.
It waited until they were out of the building in the middle of the open stretch of land between the building and the Apache. No place to take cover. No barriers. No protection. Nothing but scraped land. “Straight ahead,” she told the men. “There’s a chopper waiting. Haul it.” They scurried in the direction pointed.
Lights flashed, sirens wailed, and a flurry of men came running out of the third building.
Moving quickly, Kate rigged a line and planted explosives. “Call in tactical.”
“No,” Amanda said. “They’ll be mown down.” Lieutenant Douglas no doubt heard that transmission through his headset. “Stay put, Lieutenant.”
“But, ma’am—ma’am—”
“Stay put!”
“Yes, ma’am,” he responded, sounding disgruntled but resigned.
Glad to hear it, Amanda moved into position behind the line and warned Kate, “Hurry. You’ve got less than a minute.”
The guards ran closer. And closer. Sweat popped out on Amanda’s skin and trickled down her face. “Thirty seconds...Twenty...Getting close, Kate.”
“Done!” Kate sprang up from a crouch.
Amanda took off running. Kate followed, close on her heels, allowing a reel of wire to free fall unwind from its spool.
“They’re gaining on us.” Amanda said, pumping her legs harder and harder until her knees were about to break from the jarring of hitting the rocky ground.
“Run faster.”
The men were there at the chopper. Harry was hauling them inside. “Twenty seconds out.” She glanced behind them at the guards following.
“There!” one shouted. “Ten o’clock.”
Bullets rang out. Amanda and Kate ran in random patterns, making them more challenging targets. Finally, the lowlifes stepped into the kill zone.
Kate depressed the detonator, counted backward. “Five... Four...Three...Two...One.”
A massive explosion shook the ground under their feet, sent dirt and rock and fire fifty feet into the air.’
“Get us out of here, Harry.” Amanda hopped into the helicopter. Kate rolled in, landed beside her.
“Nice job.” Amanda smiled.
“Yeah. A thing of beauty, wasn’t it?”
Amanda laughed. “You’re taking a little too much pleasure in blowing stuff up, Kate.”
“Hey, that’s why I became an expert—so I could do it without going to jail for it.”
Amanda spoke into her lip mike. “Lieutenant Douglas?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Intel is light. Cover every inch of that rat maze and the grounds with thermal detectors. Reliable source says no doubles or other prisoners are on-site. See if he’s in the know or blowing smoke. Also, check for anything that reveals locations or identities of detainees or doubles. If you recover a body that appears to be Thomas Kunz, verify it by DNA analysis. Visual isn’t good enough.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Notify me of anything you get on him.”
“Direct, ma’am?”
Typically, he’d satellite link to Intel at Langley. “Add me to the list.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Proceed at will.”
“You heard the Captain,” she heard Douglas tell his team. “It’s time to rock and roll.”
Amanda glanced over at Gaston. He was coming around. Moving through the chopper, she stooped down
beside him. “Where is Mark? You said he was here.”
“He was here. You didn’t ask if he was still here, you just wanted to know where the detainees were. He’d been taken out earlier in the day. I didn’t intend to offer unclear info.”
What he’d said hit her. Her heart shattered. “He’s dead?”
“No. No, not dead. Not yet, anyway.” Gaston rubbed his throbbing skull. Reese had sacked him a good one. “Kunz sent him out just before dark tonight.”
Fear loosened its grip, and relief about Mark washed through her. Anger at Gaston chased its heels. “Kunz is dead, Gaston,” she said, putting him to the honesty test. “We have visual confirmation that he died in Texas.” She grabbed him by the throat of his shirt. “Quit jerking me around.”
“Whatever you say, Amanda. I’m telling you, Kunz was here today. You believe what you want.”
Maybe a double did the visual verification in Texas, or maybe the ID was simply a mistake. She paused. It verified what she already knew, instinctively. “Where did he send Mark?”
“I don’t know.” Gaston slumped against the wall of the chopper. “But I heard Reese say that sooner or later you’d figure it out. No doubt later. And Kunz said that was the plan. You’d be devastated and feel guilty forever. He’d have the ultimate revenge, hitting you where you live. That it was equitable payback for the resources you’ve caused him to lose.” Gaston looked her straight in the eye and more than a little flicker of fear passed to her. “Kunz really hates you, Amanda.”
“The feeling is mutual,” she assured him. “You know, Gaston, you sure heard a lot for a man on our side.”
Gaston frowned. “I’m supposed to hear a lot. It’s my job and I’m really good at it.”
“Apparently. How did you manage to hear all this without being detected?”
“We have tools, Amanda. Just as you do.”
He’d bugged either Kunz or Reese, she surmised, and put her odds on Reese.
“What did he have in mind—specifically?”
“He wasn’t specific. But I took it that you’d find Mark, but he’d already be dead, and you’d blame yourself for it.”
“Captain West?”
Amanda looked up to the pilot’s seat at Harry. “Just got a patch from Colonel Drake, ma’am. Kunz’s remains weren’t found at the Texas compound. Drake’s orders are to return to home base immediately. The tactical team is moving in to lock down the compound. Colonel Grant’s called in Sweepers to mop up.”